


Quiet Moments

by Fun_Sized_Owl



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adult Themes, M/M, Profanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27172348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fun_Sized_Owl/pseuds/Fun_Sized_Owl
Summary: A quiet moment between Kaaras and Bull, post Trespasser.
Relationships: Male Adaar/The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Male Inquisitor/Iron Bull
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	Quiet Moments

> **He did not know when the world would end, when the Dread Wolf would raise his head again, so in those quiet moments in between chaos and the unknown, he wanted to** _**love.** _

**Characters** : Kaaras Adaar, The Iron Bull

**Post-Trespasser**

**Warning** : Contains adult themes, profanity

The air was like ice to his skin, frost puffing from his nostrils with every breath as the sun had barely risen. He could even feel his lips sting as he licked them with a warm tongue, tasting the sharpness of frost. He could smell it, too. The scent of home. Ferelden. It was hard to describe what the cold air tasted and smelled like. And no, it wasn’t the scent of dog, like everyone claimed. Sure, Fereldans certainly liked their hounds, especially their mabari war hounds, but mabari were not something one saw on a regular basis. They were special hounds, bred for war. The only dogs that would be seen here were common hunting hounds or retrievers. And right now, there wasn’t a single one in sight, not that one could see far considering the thick fog that crossed the fields and hills.

The sharp chill caused Kaaras’ arm to ache, where the anchor had once been. He was still getting used to it, even though it had been months since he’d seen Solas, since he’d been in Halamshiral… since he’d been the _Inquisitor_. 

The thought made him feel hollow on the inside, like a large part of himself was missing. He’d allowed the last few years to consume him, his title, his _purpose_ Now, without it… it was difficult to lead a normal life once more.

Oh, there was nothing _normal_ about Kaaras Adaar. He’d been a war hero, he’d been the man to stop Corypheus and his demon army, and the world would never forget his tale. But it still felt so strange to be away from it all. The companions, even if they were never truly too far away from him. He could always trust Leliana knowing of his whereabouts, Cassandra close in tow. Cullen had also returned to Ferelden, so it was easy enough to catch up with him. The rest, letters were common enough between them, and it wasn’t like Kaaras could ever take his ‘uniform’ off. How could he when Thedas still needed him? They might not know it, but something much bigger was coming, and when the time came, the Inquisition would be there-- _he_ would be there. 

Kaaras knew, even before the Exalted Council, that he could never abandon the Inquisition, that he could never abandon _Thedas_. So let the public think that they had disbanded, let them believe that they had put away their swords, but they were still working hard, putting together a force to fight when the time would come. After all, it was not in his nature to simply give up.

He had given the Inquisition his all. He had served Thedas, helped those in need. He couldn’t abandon that now, not when he knew that they would need them again. The choice to disband had been one of the hardest things in his life, and yet… he knew it was right. He knew that Ferelden had a point. So be the hero while they needed him to be, and put the sword down when the time was right. They had served their purpose, they had defeated Corypheus and restored order. Let them remember the Inquisition for the good deeds that they had done, not for the corruption and power that would soon devour it if they allowed Solas and his people to infiltrate. It was the safest thing to do, but the right thing to do by everyone else as well. His companions, his soldiers, they had paid their price. He could not take them from their lives anymore, their families and friends. 

Resting his hand against the wooden railing of the balcony, his fingers brushed at the icicles that had formed. Snow was yet to come, but it would be here soon; he could feel it in the air. A few more weeks, perhaps, and the entirety of all he could see across the fields would be covered in white, and the poor, little tavern that they were in would be having it rough. Not many tourists or traders came this way for holidays. A few stray travellers maybe, such as themselves, but that would be all. Such was the life of Fereldans. A hardy bunch, but often struggling to make a living. 

Kaaras was used to it. His whole life, he’d had to work hard, harder than most considering his grey skin and horns. People never much liked to give him a chance, and they either stared at him in fear or awe. Sometimes it was _both_. He’d made it this far, though, and he’d heard just about every insult that could be thrown in his direction. After a while, his skin grew thicker, but it didn’t take much to know that he was soft beneath it all. 

The view before him was simple but beautiful. He should have been colder than he was, but this was the weather he’d grown up in, and he was far better at tolerating the cold than he’d ever been at dealing with the heat. Even now, he stood outside on the balcony in nothing but a pair of woollen socks and a gown wrapped around him, his shins victim to the cold chill. 

Suddenly, he was pulled from his thoughts as two strong hands made their way around his waist from behind. It startled him, but he was held in place as he felt Bull’s body press up against his. 

“You’d better have some pants on…” he teased, pressing himself against the thick of Bull’s chest. 

Bull laughed. Of course he had pants on, but only because it was so fucking cold out here. “Where’d the fun in that be?” The Iron Bull replied, a hand moving down Kaaras’ arm and overlapping his lover’s knuckles. “It’d be a pleasant view, to you and everyone else. Better than this damn cold.” Bull grumbled to himself then. “And I thought Orlais was cold…” 

“It is,” Kaaras chuckled, though he also looked back just to make sure Bull was actually wearing something. Thank the Maker he was. Nobody was up yet anyway--otherwise Kaaras probably would have properly dressed himself as well. He supposed being with Bull had made him a _tad_ bit more confident, although he still didn’t like the idea of most of his skin showing on any given day. He was truly a private individual. 

Bull’s thick fingers intertwined with his own on top of the cold wood as he felt warm lips brush up against the side of his neck, just behind his ear. It tickled and had his cheeks warming, a tingle going all through his body. It didn’t take much to get him going, but he adored Bull’s affections when he was wanting to give it. 

“I can still smell the oils from last night's bath on you. How is it that you always smell so damn good, Kadan?” Another hand moved over Kaaras’ shoulder and down beneath what remained of his mangled arm, wrapping around the front to pull the former Inquisitor into an embrace of sorts. Bull had gotten used to waking in a bed beside the other qunari now, and some mornings still caught him by surprise. Pleasant surprise of course. This had never been a life he thought he could lead--a real romantic relationship, one he had found love with. One he could feel so devoted to outside of the Qun. Now… now, the man in his arms was his life, the one he fought for and beside. There were still days where Bull felt himself a monster, a savage with no control, especially ever since he had been stated Tal’Vashoth, but there was one constant in his life, and that was Kaaras. He was what kept him grounded, just as much as Bull was for Kaaras when he needed support and someone to keep his feet steady. 

The blush on Kaaras’ cheeks only lingered, a coy smile spreading across thin lips. Even after the last few years, Bull still made him blush as if it were his first time. Turning over his shoulder, he gently pressed his head against Bull’s before he planted a soft peck onto his lips in response. 

“I do it just to rile you up,” he jested, though gasped when Bull pressed himself up against him and pinned him to the balcony. If his blush had been coy before, it was certainly flustered now, long ears flicking downward. He would have caught himself with both hands before, but instead, the limb twitched, like it was going to, but nothing came of it and he was a little lopsided because of it. 

It made him feel uneasy, the lack of control. Not because of Bull--it had nothing to do with his lover--but because he’d always been such an independent person. Now he felt… hopeless at times. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t like asking for help (although that was true, too), it was more the fact that Kaaras hated to feel like he was burdening others.

It had taken a long time for Kaaras to come to terms with his dismemberment. The mental and physical struggles had been hard to overcome, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be entirely over it. If it weren’t for Bull’s reassurance (being disabled himself), and Dagna’s hard efforts into making him a prosthetic, he wasn’t sure how far he’d come from it all. Kaaras knew what it was like to be in a dark place from his adolescence, and he pushed himself to never fall back into that darkness. Maker, it had been hard. Without the strength of his lover, he may have fallen. 

Mostly, Kaaras missed being able to hold Bull, to feel him in the palm of his hand, to brush his fingers against his skin or… something else. Clearly Bull noticed the reaction, because the next thing he felt was a strong hand gently moving across the muscle on his arm, just above where his elbow was. 

“Hey, you know you’re perfect the way you are, yeah?” 

Kaaras turned around so he could face Bull now, a saddened smile across his eyes. “I know you say that…”

“Yeah, I do.” He lifted Kaaras’ hand and pressed the man’s knuckles to his lips. Bull also knew that him saying it wouldn’t bring Kaaras’ limb back, nor would it make him feel like he was perfect or complete. Words didn’t always make everything better, hell, sometimes they made shit worse. But Bull was here to let Kaaras know that he wasn’t worthless because he’d been butchered by some ancient bastard. He supposed he could have been angrier, Solas could have killed his lover. Then he’d be everything the Qun taught him he’d be: a savage monster, ready to kill. Alas, he’d not been with Solas those last few moments before he disappeared, but something told the warrior that Solas was on a mission to destroy himself. And if he didn’t, he’d be there to do it for him. 

“And I _mean_ it when I say it.” Bull’s other hand moved to cup the stubble-covered cheek, a thumb brushing over the scar on the mage’s bottom lip. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known, Kadan. The bravest, and kindest.” Hell, he was willing to forgive Solas when he knew he’d never have that kind of strength, let alone kindness. 

“Sexiest, too…”

Kaaras breathed a laugh at that. “I think the cold’s gotten to you.”

Bull smirked. “I’m feeling pretty hot actually, if you get my drift.” The warrior wiggled his brows, the patch that usually covered his marred eye back inside, having been discarded somewhere last night. That was a future issue he’d deal with. Right now, he wanted to concentrate on the beautiful man that stood before him, wrapped in a tedious gown that should be stripped off immediately so he could devour every inch of him from head to toe. 

“Why don’t we get out of this cold before my nipples snap off, and before you get frostbite on your tootsies.” 

Kaaras looked down. “I was smart enough to wear socks,” he pointed out, raising a brow as he eyed Bull’s shirtlessness. It was no one's fault but Bull’s that he was cold. Bull grumbled in response, which only made him respond with an amused look.

“Well, we could stand out here all morning and argue who’s more dressed than the other, and how damn cold it is, _or_ we could go inside and lay by a warm fire. I’m pretty sure I know which one I’d rather do.” 

Kaaras chuckled, his hand moving to Bull’s and holding it. “Alright, alright,” he smiled, jutting his chin in the direction of the door. Bull happily opened it and stepped back inside, Kaaras following. The difference between inside and out was stark. Even if the fire that had been going last night was nothing but embers now, the temperature was still much warmer.

He felt Bull’s hand leave his as he picked up a few logs and put them in, stoking the fire to restart. Despite being around magic for so long, Bull still didn’t rely on it. Nor did Kaaras, if he were honest. He had always been taught to never rely solely on his magical abilities. If he was stuck in a sticky situation, one which would get him into trouble, or one with magebane, then it would not bode well for him to rely upon his talents as a mage. Even as a skilled mage, Kaaras had always used it only when he needed to--aside from his training and meditation. It was no surprise that Bull stoked the fire without asking for his assistance, and Kaaras hardly took any kind of offence. 

Moving to the bed, he took a seat at the edge, fingers brushing thick furs. The tavern was no fancy palace or estate that he may have been used to spending his last few years in. In fact, this was far more like the years before being Inquisitor. It was humble, cosy and if Kaaras were honest, comfortable. This was his core being. There was little more Fereldan one could get than feeling the furs on the beds, the fire bouncing off old, wooden walls. All he needed was a slice of cheese and a warm cuppa.

His eyes watched as Bull awakened the fire, just watching as his lover moved, the flicker of light off thick muscle as the sun began to rise above the treeline outside now. Strong, mentally and physically, but surprisingly soft Bull was. He might never admit it, but he was far more romantic than he gave himself credit for. It had been a large risk for him to accept Bull’s company that one evening over three years ago. He had been terrified, terrified of getting hurt, of making some kind of a mistake, but Bull had proven to be one of the most caring and compassionate people he’d ever known. He was hardly the monster that he made himself out to be, the _thing_. He was a person just like anyone else, and so much more than that. 

“There. That’s better.” Bull stood back up as the fire roared back to life from the fresh kindling and logs. As he stood, he cracked his back and stretched his arms before he turned to see Kaaras on the bed. 

“You okay, Kadan?”

Ruby eyes looked up to catch Bull’s eye. “Hm? Yes, I’m…” Kaaras hummed through his nostrils and shook his head. “Never better, really. I’ve got a warm fire before me, a comfortable bed and most importantly, you as my company.” He outstretched his arm, beckoning for Bull to come and lay down with him. To spend the morning together before they were back on the road. Moments like this had felt rare when he was the Inquisitor, a calm moment he could share with his lover. Now, whilst he could, he wanted to take every chance he could with Bull. To never miss an opportunity, a moment to love and cherish him. He did not know when the world would end, when the Dread Wolf would raise his head again, so in those quiet moments in between chaos and the unknown, he wanted to _love._

It took mere seconds for Bull to be on the bed beside him, laying down facing one another. Bull propped himself up onto his elbow so his horn wouldn’t scratch at the head of the bed, or kink his neck too much. 

A large hand moved to cup Kaaras’ cheek, Bull looking between each of those deep, red eyes. “You helped me find my purpose without the Qun, Kadan. I’ll help you find yours without the Inquisition.”

Kaaras’ eyes lowered for a moment, watching Bull’s lips so he didn’t have to look him in the eye, until Bull’s hand moved and propped his chin up so he had no choice. He wanted to say that that had been different, but it hadn’t, had it. They had both lost a part of themselves. For Bull, it had been so much more. He’d lost his home, his culture, his identity--even if he’d been living as a Tal’Vashoth for years. The reality of no longer being welcome, no longer having those contacts to a place called home? Kaaras only felt part of that, but the Inquisition had become a home, a _family_ to him. Perhaps that made him a weak leader, too compassionate and comfortable. But he missed it all, and would continue to do so for a very long time.

Awkwardly, he shuffled himself so that his hand could take Bull’s. He should have attached his prosthetic, but he wanted to be warmer before he did that. The cold made his arm ache and the skin was stiff. 

“I believe you.” He meant what he said. His hand moved lower, tracing down the cord around Bull’s neck to feel the smoothness of the dragon tooth necklace that hung between his thick bosoms. “No matter how far apart, we’ll always be together.” 

“Damn straight.” Bull pressed a kiss against the man’s lips, pulling him closer and tangling their legs. He didn’t believe in fate or destiny or any of that shit, but he sure as hell believed in Kaaras Adaar.


End file.
